Gay(?)mers

Chapter 12

Yoo Joonghyuk was waiting when I arrived, standing by the door with a worried look.

I didn't have many bags, he seemed to notice- just my computer, clothes and a couple of books- but I'd never been one to keep a lot. I put them down as I approach, and promptly fall into his arms with a long, tired sigh.

He doesn't question the action; simply returns it. He even works up the courage to place a little kiss onto my cheek, like an answer for last time- and I repay it with a full one to the lips. He shivers, cheeks a little red as I pull back- as though his mind had wandered into the gutter. He doesn't seem to think now is a good time, though, and instead opts to open the door a moment later.

As I step inside, the first thing I notice is the interior. The apartment was small and simple, but felt welcoming nevertheless- I smile, barely refusing the tears threatening to build up in my eyes. "Thanks for letting me stay." It comes out in a whisper, and he replies by wrapping his arms across my waist from behind. I ruffle his hair as he presses his head into my neck, his face a little red. I can't help the breathless smile that covers my face; why is he so adorable??

"You can stay for as long as you like."

I nod, watching as he carries some of my bags into a room. It feels.. odd. His home feels warm and lived in, with little hints of him strewn all across it. Neat, but lively. It ranges from a pair of shoes by the door, CD's stacked next to the books on his shelves, a mug and three plates sitting by the sink, waiting to be washed, and a random shirt hanging over the back of the worn leather couch- it's such an obvious difference from the pristine surfaces of my fathers' house.

It just... doesn't feel real.

I can feel the muscles in my shoulders go slack as a long, deep breath pulls through my lungs. I can... relax here. I wordlessly follow Yoo Joonghyuk into the spare room, now noticing how it's directly across from his. I'm close to him.

Something simply feels right here, temporary as it may be- and with my father now out of the picture, I can finally feel the exhaustion from the past few years settling in. A bit light-headed, I reach for Yoo Joonghyuk and lean into his side, simply taking a moment to enjoy his presence. He wraps an arm around my waist for support, rubbing gently along my hip.

"Do you want me to go and make some dinner?"

I nod, lightly picking at the handle of a bag which is now in my arms, as I busy myself with unpacking. "Yes, please..."

An odd look creeps into his expression as he turns to leave, but there were no other words spoken.

. . . 

Yoo Joonghyuk Pov:

There was a pain in his eyes that I'd missed, not seeing it as soon as I should have- and with that I had failed. Failed at what? I wasn't quite sure, but judging by the pool of guilt and regret churning through my bones as I prepared our meals, I just knew that there was something.

That man, his so-called father, had sounded so horrible and cruel that I'd had to grit my teeth, feeling the sudden urge to hunt down their address and smash his head into a slab of concrete the moment he opened his mouth. I can't believe such an insufferable devil had managed to raise an angel. The signs were there all along, I think with a wince. Kim Dokja's inconsistent schedule, the way he always kept his voice as low as he could, the faint bruises on his neck and a mention of gaming as a means of escape- I wish I had said something sooner. Gotten him out of that sooner.

It didn't seem as though anything traumatic had taken place, and for that I was grateful- but the mere risk of it was something I had failed to protect him from.

It's horrible.

It's been a few minutes, and I've finished preparing the food, by now- a simple soup, with some toast on the side. Not my best, I'll admit, but I doubt that either of us has much of an appetite right now- so a meal easier to stomach seemed best.

Kim Dokja came to sit at the table soon after, and I settled across from him, in a way similar to that of our last two dates. He doesn't complain, but avoids eye contact.

I don't mind. The room is silent, save for the quiet sounds of my spoon.

Time seems irrelevant as we enjoy the quiet, and I'm finished before I have the chance to think of any words to say. Dokja leaves his bowl half-full, flashing me an apologetic look as he pushes it forward, signalling that he's done. I look at it for a moment. On a normal day, I would pry for him to eat a little more- but I let it go for now, and place the bowls by the sink without question.

He follows me into the hall, and I now notice that he's already changed for the night. A pair of boxers and an oversized shirt, I see- the latter being, noticeably, one of mine. At least he looks comfy.

Just as I open my bedroom door, he latches on to me, and I expect him to say goodnight- but he instead asks me to stay. I shiver, an action I've noticed my body to be repeating quite often a lot as of late- but allow him to lead me into the spare room.

The bed was small; only meant for one person, but he hauls me in without a second thought.

It feels nice, having him in my arms.

I place my chin onto his head, keeping him tucked firmly into my chest, and soon after- he finally begins to cry. Something more than the few, silent tears I've seen so far; I mean a real, proper cry.

I pull the covers over him, silently running a hand through his hair as everything finally comes undone.

I'd be lying if I said the sound didn't break something deep within my heart, but oh, I'd remain a liar because I couldn't afford to be vulnerable right now. I needed to remain as a pillar, solid and indestructible for him to lean on, at least until he could stand on his own. I needed to protect him, no matter what, or from who. I need to be there for hin.

It takes him about an hour to simmer down, exhaustion dragging him further into the sheets.

"Yoo Joonghyuk," he sobs, thin arms tightening their grasp along my sides, "don't ever leave me. Not like the others.. don't you dare leave me."

I don't ask about the others.   "I won't."

"I'll never forgive you if you leave."

"I wouldn't forgive myself if I did."

"So you'll stay?"

I hold him a little tighter, pressing a soft collection of kisses along his cheeks,

"I will. Forever, okay?"

He was quieter now, weakly balling a fist into the fabric of my hoodie as he begins to drift off, "Promise?"

"Promise."